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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28248762">Baby, It's Fucking Cold Outside</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/feihart/pseuds/feihart'>feihart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Boys Kissing, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Profanity, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Oneshot, akaashi keiji &amp; kozume kenma - Freeform, akaken friendship is them being mean to each other, but like you seriously have to squint for that one, coffee shop AU, empty threats of violence (like in a ‘please stop being so cute’ kind of way), pain in the pass (and wingman?) Akaashi heart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:33:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28248762</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/feihart/pseuds/feihart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenma is starting to notice that the benefits of working with his crush (tall, cute face, same shifts) do not outweigh the costs (eternal suffering, is-he-flirting-with-me-or-is-this-just-an-attack conundrums, constant blushing, being perceived by crush—the list goes on.)</p><p>God, this is the worst timeline.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>404</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Kuroken Christmas Exchange 2020, Recommended KuroKen Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Baby, It's Fucking Cold Outside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabyswan/gifts">gabyswan</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>🎵𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨<br/>𝘜𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘦🎵</p><p>This little coffee shop drabble is a gift for Gaby @osamusuki as part of the @kurokenexchange ! It’s fluffy - and a little violent, I’ll be honest (but in the like ‘if my crush smiles at me one more time, I’ll combust’ sort of way). I had so much fun writing this and I really hope you enjoy reading it !</p><p>Thank you so so much to a slew of people for helping me make this the cutest and most chaotic version of it: <a href="https://twitter.com/got2ghost">Chi</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/nearly_theyre">Mars</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/yamastarss">Nation</a>, <a href="https://twitter.com/enderoverflow">Casey</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwaoist">Effie</a>, Freddie &amp; <a href="https://twitter.com/kurokenns">Jane</a> !</p><p>Special shout out to <a href="https://twitter.com/TeddyKrueger__">Teddy</a> for inspiring the fic title by singing Christmas tunes while on voice chat &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>🍵</p><p> </p><p>Ah, yes, November twenty-seventh. Another day well into the fall season, bringing with it less daylight and more brisk weather. Kenma can handle the days getting shorter because he likes to work when it’s dark, but he can barely tolerate the drop in temperature no matter how subtle it is.</p><p> </p><p>He sneezes and shivers as if his body is trying to make a point, even though he’d swiped a cafe sweater from the staff area. It doesn’t help that he’s stuck in the back room right now, close to both the freezing unit and the exit.</p><p> </p><p>On a normal day, he’d be able to fight off the cold on the cafe floor, tending to customers near the warm coffee machines or the very hot toasters. But today being November twenty-seventh, five weeks out from Christmas, means—</p><p> </p><p>“<em> IT’S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME OF THE YEAR. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>Well. It means he’s stuck spending more time in the <em> cold </em> back room, tasked with bringing down the shop’s Christmas decorations while forced to listen to Bokuto belt out his favourite holiday songs. Bokuto is out front and his voice <em> still </em> carries to the back—Kenma can’t escape it. </p><p> </p><p>He turns back to the list in his hand. <em> Garlands, Christmas tree, ornaments, decorative snowmen... </em></p><p> </p><p>God. It’s the most wonderful time of the year? Kenma could not disagree more. This is really one of the most troublesome times of the year—of the <em> day </em> even. It’s made worse by the decorations being so high up on the shelves. Maybe if he reaches up, pushes all the way to the tips of his toes—</p><p> </p><p>With an exasperated huff, Kenma drops down to the flat of his feet, glaring up at the box of garlands. Ugh. He’ll need a ladder to bring them down. He glances behind him to find the ladder. He stares at it for a long moment before deciding he can’t be bothered.</p><p> </p><p>He steps out of the back room onto the cafe floor. There, he finds Bokuto serving a customer, who has thankfully interrupted his carolling. Further down along the counter, he sees Kuroo chatting away with their coworker Nametsu. She looks delighted to be in conversation with him, and Kuroo looks dumb telling whatever joke that’s making her laugh. He’s smirking crookedly as he is, pushing his stupid hair back lazily and Kenma wants to...do something. Push him, maybe.</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto starts singing again and Kenma starts to reconsider: maybe it’s the worst time of the year because Kuroo had started working here not too long ago, and now there’s no place for him to escape his best friend’s disgustingly handsome face.</p><p> </p><p>For now, he supposes that is of no consequence because Kuroo is tall, and that means he can be useful to him in the back. While he has Kuroo bring down the decorations for him, Kenma will allow himself to openly look at Kuroo’s face. This is a great plan.</p><p> </p><p>“Kuro.”</p><p> </p><p>His call is rather quiet, but Kuroo hears it anyway, accustomed to years of discerning the low rumble of Kenma’s voice amongst other noises. Kenma’s stomach twists, and he pushes that thought aside when Kuroo turns a soft smile to him and says, “Yes, Kenma?”</p><p> </p><p>Briefly, Kenma wonders if it would hurt to flick him between the eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you come help me?” He points to the back, and Kuroo wastes no time in leaning off the counter with a cheerful <em> Sure! </em>, going ahead of Kenma. Kenma throws an apologetic smile at Nametsu. She waves them off and returns to cleaning.</p><p> </p><p>When they pass the threshold to the back, Kenma hands Kuroo the list he’s been holding. “I need you to take these down for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo takes the list and doesn’t even look at it as he theatrically clutches it against his chest. “Kenma, I’m wounded. Did you ask me back here just to <em> use </em> me?”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma pries the piece of paper from Kuroo’s dramatic fingers and snorts. “Yeah, of course I did. You’re too tall. This is reparations.” That makes Kuroo laugh as he pulls a box marked <em> garlands </em> from the shelves with ease—tall motherfucker. But the sound does tease a small smirk from Kenma.</p><p> </p><p>“And here I was, thinking you’d pulled me aside to do something improper.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma tries not to imagine too deeply the improper things he’d like to do with Kuroo—holding his hand, pushing him into the shelves. Instead, he kicks his shin weakly. “Like hell I would.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re right,” Kuroo says, bringing down the boxed Christmas tree and smirking at Kenma. “In the back of the cafe is too cliché.”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up,” is all he says to that, suddenly too hot in the cafe sweater. He redirects their attention to the task.</p><p> </p><p>Kenma crosses off from the list as items come down: <em> Garlands, Christmas tree, ornaments, decorative snowmen </em>. He scowls at the next one.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, look,” Kuroo says, opening the small box he’d just put down on a table. “This one has mistletoes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ugh. Put them away.” Kenma closes the flaps of the box with a grimace. “If Bokuto sees them, he’ll demand everyone give him a kiss. But he’ll do it in the most obnoxious way possible.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo laughs softly, covering Kenma’s hands with his own. “I dunno, Kenma. Mistletoe can be fun.” He’s grinning at him, and Kenma can do little else but stare at him, his mind on their hands, the warmth of them against each other. “What if it’s me you have to kiss?”</p><p> </p><p>If someone were to put a reader to Kenma’s brain, it would say <em> Kenma.exe has stopped functioning. </em></p><p> </p><p>It’s not uncommon for Kuroo to tease Kenma until he turns red from the embarrassment, or for him to be a bit flirtatious with him, but this...that…what? </p><p> </p><p>“What?”</p><p> </p><p>Half of Kenma wants to believe Kuroo says things like that to him because that’s what Kuroo wants. But the other half—the one that has trouble discerning Kuroo’s natural charm from his purposeful flirtations—isn’t sure. It’s confusing to Kenma, but because Kuroo says most things with a base level of joviality, he has to be careful about getting his hopes up.</p><p> </p><p>Kenma blinks up at him as Kuroo opens his mouth to say...something else dangerous, he’s sure, but they both startle when instead of his voice, what they hear are the first notes of <em> All I Want For Christmas </em> —the Mariah Carey version, not Bokuto’s terrible rendition of it <em> . </em> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t want a lot for Christmas.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> There is just one thing I need.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I don’t care about the presents. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo closes his mouth and looks to the side. When Kenma turns his head, he finds the source of the noise to be a phone held gently in Akaashi’s hand. He’s standing at the threshold of the office, looking directly at Kenma as the lyrics <em> All I want for Christmas is you </em> pick up.</p><p> </p><p>“Akaashi,” Kenma finally manages to say, voice a little hoarse, pulling his hands out from under Kuroo’s. “How long have you been standing there?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not that long,” Akaashi says, like the liar he is. He shuts off the music and pockets his phone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was watching a Tik Tok.”</p><p> </p><p>Before Kenma can point out his apology doesn’t mean shit, Kuroo smiles. “No worries.” He lifts up one of the heavier boxes on the floor and says to Kenma, “I’ll bring these out.” </p><p> </p><p>“Can you go help Lev on the floor while you’re out there?” Akaashi calls, to which Kuroo responds <em> Yes, sir! </em></p><p> </p><p>Akaashi looks back coolly as Kenma glares at him, completely unbothered that he’d broken whatever moment he and Kuroo were having. “Did the gods put you on this earth to ruin my life?”</p><p> </p><p>That makes Akaashi laugh. As he pivots to step back into the office, he says, “You should put those mistletoes to good use, Kenma.”</p><p> </p><p>Terrible, no-good Akaashi Keiji. Kenma grabs a box of decorations—doesn’t really care which one—and leaves the back room too.</p><p> </p><p>🍵🍵</p><p> </p><p>It’s Sunday evening. December is just around the corner and the shop <em> doesn’t look festive enough </em>, Sawamura, the shift supervisor, decides. Not that Kenma particularly cares, but he can kind of agree with that. Though he’d taken care of bringing down the decorations, once he’d set them out front, he’d immediately walked away. He figured the Saturday crew would handle it.</p><p> </p><p>They did not.</p><p> </p><p>So now Kenma is in the dining area, restocking the shelves with take-home items. One of the mug designs this year is an ugly reindeer on a snowy background. He might buy one for Kuroo and tell him <em> Hey, it kind of looks like you </em>. Kenma peers around the shelf to find Kuroo sweeping under a table. He snickers to himself, imagining Kuroo’s indignant squawk. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s so funny?” Kuroo asks him, amused by Kenma laughing alone. </p><p> </p><p>He immediately schools his expression, masking the embarrassment of being caught. It makes Kuroo laugh himself, though he sticks his tongue out in retaliation as soon as Kenma says, “Your face.”</p><p> </p><p>“Alright,” comes Sawamura’s voice from behind the counter nearby. He’s just deposited a box of ground coffee bags by the coffee machines. “I brought these out. I’m going back to the office to balance registers.” He makes a general sweep of the floor and takes in the staff: Sugawara, Kenma, Kuroo, Nishinoya. He points to Kenma. “Kenma. Keep an eye on the boys while I’m gone.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Sugawara whines to Sawamura’s retreating back. He’s throwing out one of the coffee filters and replacing it with a new one to make a fresher pot. “What about me? I can be in charge.”</p><p> </p><p>It would make sense to leave it to Sugawara since he has more seniority; he’s a good employee, too. But he’s also—and Sawamura knows this best—the one most likely to approve of bad ideas while he isn’t looking.</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely not,” he says immediately, disappearing into the back and not bothering to address Sugawara’s booing. Nishinoya laughs as he refills medium-sized paper cups and Kuroo shakes his head.</p><p> </p><p>Kenma looks around the shelf to smirk at his friend. “Hear that, Kuro? I’m in charge.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo takes two strides to reach Kenma, matching his smirk. He leans against the shelf and pretends to sweep a small spot in front of him. “You’re in charge, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh huh.” Kenma carefully sets another mug in the display, this one designed with <em> Merry Christmas </em> written in flashy, cursive English font. He flicks his gaze up at Kuroo, which only serves to remind him how <em> unreasonably tall </em> he is. “You have to listen to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“What if I don’t, Kenma?” Kuroo challenges. Kenma’s face feels so hot he thinks the tips of his ears might be turning red. It’s thrilling and completely unnerving to be the focus of Kuroo’s attention. He wants to drop the mug he’s holding so it shatters at their feet, effectively distracting Kuroo enough for him to flee. He almost does it, too, when Kuroo says lowly, “Will you punish me?”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma glares up at him because he doesn’t know what else to do, and it only makes Kuroo’s stupid grin grow wider. </p><p> </p><p>Kuroo leans off the shelf with a shrug. “Guess not.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s as he walks away to return the broom to the back that Kenma whispers, “I’ll kill you,” but Kuroo doesn’t hear him.</p><p> </p><p>And maybe he’d be better off if he did kill him, because Kenma is starting to notice that the benefits of working with his crush (tall, cute face, same shifts) do not outweigh the costs (eternal suffering, <em> is-he-flirting-with-me-or-is-this-just-an-attack </em> conundrums, constant blushing, being perceived by crush, etc.)</p><p> </p><p>God, this is the worst timeline.</p><p> </p><p>🍵🍵🍵</p><p> </p><p>“‘What if I’m the one you have to kiss, Kenma?’”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma stops his task of slicing up the bread rolls to look up, a dead stare in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“I am holding a knife,” he says, brandishing it towards Akaashi, eternal pain in the ass. His coworker isn’t threatened at all. “Stop being mean to me.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi’s serious expression shifts, his mouth quivering and his eyebrows pulling together as he tries—and fucking fails—to fight off a grin. “‘What if I don’t? Will you punish me, Kenma?’”</p><p> </p><p>“Why do I even tell you things?” Kenma should have known that when he’d texted Akaashi about his exchange with Kuroo the other day, he’d use it against him. “I hate you so much.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi finally lets himself laugh quietly, covering his mouth with a hand, because he thinks he’s hilarious and knows Kenma doesn’t actually hate him. But <em> god, </em>does he have regrets. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I’m done,” Akaashi says. “I came to tell you you can take your break.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma finishes with his current bread roll and puts the slices in a freshly lined basket. He leaves it in the middle of the station for Akaashi to deal with because he hates him right now.</p><p> </p><p>He heads to the staff room to rest and is there for about a minute before Kuroo appears. His hair looks particularly messy today, and Kenma wants to pull on his bangs so they don’t curtain his eyes and make him look so...sexy. </p><p> </p><p>Kenma wants to disappear. </p><p> </p><p>“You on break?” Kenma nods and Kuroo smiles in a way that makes Kenma wish he’d stop. “Me too. Want anything?”</p><p> </p><p>“Just a sprinkled donut.”</p><p> </p><p>“Got it.”</p><p> </p><p>He’s alone again. He takes out his phone from his pocket and opens his Tetris app, hoping it’ll curb his nerves. It’s fine, he tells himself. It’s just him and Kuroo chilling in the staff room together—nothing they haven’t done before, even outside of the coffee shop.</p><p> </p><p>He wants the knots in his stomach to understand this too.</p><p> </p><p>When Kuroo comes back, it’s with the donut Kenma requested and a warm drink. </p><p> </p><p>“What’s this?” he asks, lifting the lid and taking a whiff. Oh. It’s a chai cider. Kuroo’s added an apple-cinnamon tea bag to it, which is just how Kenma likes it. It’s not a big deal, really, that Kuroo knows his favourite holiday drink, but he doesn’t remember telling him about it. “How did you know to add the tea?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo hums thoughtfully around the sandwich bite he just took. “You mentioned it once a while ago. That the only thing you were looking forward to in December was your apple-cinnamon chai cider.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma is thankful that Daishou makes an obnoxious appearance then, because he’d just been staring at Kuroo. He’s even more thankful that Daishou picks a fight with Kuroo, playfully ribbing him on his bad hair looking worse than usual today, because Kuroo can’t notice the lingering blush that suddenly spreads across his cheeks. This is terrible. According to Kenma’s mental list of Kuroo’s Offences, this is a direct violation of <em> Perceiving Him In A Way That Makes Him Feel Things.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Alright, see you later, Rooster Head.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hopefully not, Punk-Ass Bitch.”</p><p> </p><p>Daishou leaves, and Kuroo shoots an amused smile at Kenma. <em> Fuck you </em> , he thinks, <em> don’t smile at me. You have no idea what you do to me. </em> He smiles back.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Kuro. What’s your favourite holiday drink?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t have one,” he replies. “Maybe something mint-flavoured?” </p><p> </p><p>Kenma nods and makes sure he retains that information too.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>🍵🍵🍵🍵</p><p> </p><p>There are certain things Kenma learns to expect: for his mom to wake him up before any alarm he sets without fail, because she has some scary sixth sense like that; for Kuroo’s hair to be a disaster every time he sees him; for Akaashi to be a nuisance at every opportunity he gets.</p><p> </p><p>And god, he really should have been better prepared for that last one, especially when he places the ladder in front of the bar with Akaashi washing utensils on the other side.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re being gay.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma angrily pulls on the tape dispenser in his hand, glaring at the garland he’s taping down instead of at Akaashi like he wants to. “I’ll kill you.” Akaashi doesn’t even respond to his threat, which is maddening. Kenma adds, “I am not being any more gay than usual.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi laughs at him, that jerk. “How many times have you had to re-tape the same piece of garland because you can’t look away from him?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up!” he hisses quietly, glancing to his right. Further down the counter, Kuroo is chatting with a customer he’d just served, hopefully too busy entertaining her and too far away to hear them. Kenma glares at the top of Akaashi’s head. “I’m just taking extra care to fulfil the duties Sawamura assigned to me”</p><p> </p><p>Wait. Does that sound kind of gay? Akaashi must think so if the way he loudly snorts is any indication. Even Bokuto is caught off guard by the sound as he passes by with a drive-thru order.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re really taking Sawamura’s ‘keep your eyes on him’ to a new, very gay level.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma rips out more tape and wonders if he can put it over his terrible friend’s mouth instead. “Leave me alone.”</p><p> </p><p>“You know what you should do?” There’s a box on the counter next to Akaashi that’s full of Christmas ornaments, assorted ones Kenma had tossed together to decorate the garlands. Akaashi taps on the box. “You should hang a couple of mistletoes. Lord knows that’s the only way you’ll get to kiss him at this rate.”</p><p> </p><p>Nuisance. <em> Nuisance! </em></p><p> </p><p>Kenma tsks and shakes his head. “Keiji, no. What if someone has to kiss <em> you </em>? I can’t let that happen to an innocent person.”</p><p> </p><p>“At least one of us will be kissing at all.”</p><p> </p><p>“But they’ll hate it because you fucking suck.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whaaaat?” interjects Bokuto, genuine disbelief written all over his features. He shoves the headset down to hang around his neck with one hand and lightly claps the other on Akaashi’s back. “‘Kaashi. Don’t believe what he says. There are plenty of people who <em> want </em> to kiss you here.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi responds, suddenly sounding very tired. He glares at Kenma when he laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Kenma.” Bokuto gives him a firm thumbs up, eyebrows pulled in seriously. “You should hang more mistletoes. Maybe you’ll make someone’s Christmas dreams come true.” </p><p> </p><p>There’s no way in hell he will. To Bokuto, he says, “I’ll think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Bokuto’s face shifts quickly from serious to happy, a wide smile stretching his lips. He snaps his fingers together, a bright idea having come to him. “That’d be great for the Christmas work party in a couple weeks, don’t you think?”</p><p> </p><p>Neither Kenma nor Akaashi think this is a good idea at all. They thankfully don’t have to tell him that because the headset dings, announcing a new window order. Bokuto claps Akaashi on the back again before greeting the customer and whisking off to the register.</p><p> </p><p>They stare at the box of mistletoes. Kenma has to fold his lips in to keep himself from laughing again. He barely manages it when Akaashi pulls out a garbage can from under the sink and upends the box into it.</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s being gay now, jackass?”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi ignores him. “Anyway—back to garland hanging, please.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma’s about to do just that when he remembers something Bokuto mentioned. “Wait—when’s the work party?” He looks at the discarded box in horror. “Will there be mistletoes there for real?”</p><p> </p><p>“I just threw them out, didn’t I?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not all of them,” Kenma remarks, following that with an <em> ugh </em>. “Do I have to go?”</p><p> </p><p>“You RSVP’d yes.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma makes a face so ridiculous, Akaashi laughs when he glances up. Why the fuck did he say yes?—Ah. He remembers. Kuroo had been hovering around when he’d received the email and had strongly encouraged him to click yes. Kenma, being the stupid simp that he is, gave in. “I was under duress. Let me answer again.”</p><p> </p><p>Akaashi rolls his eyes even though he thinks Kenma is funny. “Don’t skip out on the party. It’ll be fun.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whaaaat?” This time it’s Kuroo. He’s on Kenma’s side of the counter, standing behind him. He grips his thighs firmly, probably to keep him stable on the ladder, but Kenma feels hot where Kuroo is touching him and he just wants to climb down to lie on the floor. Oh, my god. When had he stopped talking to that customer? How had he missed his messy head making his way to him? Even on the ladder, Kenma is not that much taller than Kuroo, so he doesn’t have to look far down to see his frown. “You’re thinking of skipping?”</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t thinking of skipping,” he says, like the liar he is.</p><p> </p><p>“He was trying to scheme his way out of it,” Akaashi supplies unhelpfully.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t skip.” Kuroo smiles at Kenma without his permission. “I’ll pick you up. We can go together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” Kenma says quietly. </p><p> </p><p>The front door chimes and a new customer appears, so Kuroo hurries over to serve him. Akaashi snickers behind the bar. If Kenma pulls on the tape hard enough, he can cover the sound of it with the loud zipping noise of the dispenser.</p><p> </p><p>🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵</p><p> </p><p>“‘Don’t skip the party’, he said.” </p><p> </p><p>Kenma should have skipped the party. </p><p> </p><p>There’s a reason why he tried to get out of it multiple times over the week. No part of being stuck at a large gathering with a lot of people he doesn’t know personally has ever sounded appealing. But each attempt at absenting himself had been thwarted by Kuroo’s stupidly charming smile. He had been tricked by the thought of Kuroo wanting him there<em> . </em> Maybe he caved because he had liked, even if for a moment, that feeling of being wanted. This is vastly different from Being Perceived™.</p><p> </p><p>“‘It’ll be fun,’ he said—he’s a liar.”</p><p> </p><p>And Kuroo <em> is </em> a liar, because now Kenma is outside, suffering in the cold, decidedly not having fun after escaping Bokuto—he’d found the mistletoes Akaashi had thrown away then retrieved—who is now terrorizing his favourites with requests for kisses. Kenma, being one of his favourites, has spent the evening so far avoiding Bokuto. He’s even had to avoid Kuroo, which isn’t at all what he wants, but every time he’d gone to find him again, a mistletoe wasn’t far behind.</p><p> </p><p>There was one time he decided to ignore the hanging leaves, but Haiba had declared its existence over their heads loudly. Kenma had walked away to Haiba’s protest and he hasn’t tried to find Kuroo since.</p><p> </p><p>Kenma sighs. A few steps away, there’s a small rock in his path. He quickens his step and kicks it as hard as he can. It ricochets off the bottom of a metal pole, then shoots off somewhere to the side. Kenma loses the rock, but not the temporary irritation that had fueled the punt. </p><p> </p><p>The mistletoe situation is whatever in the end because he can at least get away from it. But nothing will change the fact that Akaashi and Bokuto were caught making out in the bathroom of the venue.</p><p> </p><p>What the fuck? Akaashi got kissed? <em> Before </em> Kenma did?</p><p> </p><p>Good for him, he thinks as he sidesteps the stop sign he nearly walks into. He genuinely roots for his friend, but also <em> fuck him </em> . God. Kenma is so annoyed, he could commit a crime. He <em> will </em> commit a crime.</p><p> </p><p>He turns back and walks over to the stop sign. He wraps both hands around the pole and shakes it, testing its resistance. It wavers but it’s pretty solidly dug into the ground. Maybe with sheer force of will, he can steal it. He can do it out of spite. That’s illegal somewhere, right?</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma looks up to the sky instead of ahead where the voice is coming from, because of course it’s Kuroo that catches him in the middle of an embarrassing act. All of the rage leaves him at once.</p><p> </p><p>“What does it look like?” After a beat, he looks at him finally. “I’m trying to steal this.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo hums around a laugh, stepping forward until he’s in front of Kenma, only the stop sign between them. He looks relaxed and warm and maybe a little relieved to have found him.</p><p> </p><p>“Right,” he drawls, then tilts his head curiously. “Why?”</p><p> </p><p>He can’t very well tell him what’s going on in his brain—<em> I think my crush on you is going to eat me alive </em>—but he also can’t think of a good lie. Kenma decides to go with a half-truth. “Because of the mistletoes. They’re cursed, Kuro.”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo presses the palm of his hand on the surface of the stop sign to lean against it. “Mistletoes are cursed so you’re thinking about stealing a stop sign?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” Kenma shakes the pole again. “If I swing it around, maybe I can stop Bokuto from trying to kiss me—although I think he’s pretty busy with Keiji.”</p><p> </p><p>“So I’ve heard.” Kuroo smiles gently at him. Both of his hands are on the stop sign now, and he’s resting his cheek against its edge. “Hey, Kenma. If I had a mistletoe on me, how angry would you be?”</p><p> </p><p>The first thought that crosses Kenma’s mind is that he should check his pockets for the mistletoe. He can walk over, confiscate it and crush it beneath his shoe if it’s really there. The second thought is that he could skip that step entirely and simply eliminate Kuroo once he digs out the stop sign. It would be a little unfortunate to get rid of him without resolving his feelings for him first, but if he’s just one more boss battle to conquer to know peace, he will do it.</p><p> </p><p>Kenma releases his hold on the cold pole to tuck his hands under his armpits. He looks away for a moment, staring blindly at a building across the street, cheeks flushed pink from the sudden warmth and implication that Kuroo <em> wants </em> to kiss him. When he looks at Kuroo, he’s too relaxed, seemingly unaffected by the same mental breakdown that Kenma is suffering right now.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe this is another one of those times, then, when Kuroo is being naturally flirtatious and playful as always, no ulterior motive beyond teasing him. He still can’t tell.</p><p> </p><p>“Why do you have a mistletoe on you?” he asks him. “I just told you they’re cursed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you really have to ask?” Kuroo smiles crookedly. “I’ve lowkey been trying to kiss you for months, y’know.” </p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” Kenma says slowly. Well this is...very direct. He lets a long pause sit between them as he processes what Kuroo just said. He supposes he really should have been able to tell when Kuroo was joking about his affections and when he was serious about them, because there’s a softness in his expression that’s a little overwhelming; an open sincerity that Kenma is pretty sure is only reserved for him. Kenma looks back at him and thinks, <em> this fucking jerk </em> . Why would he have him <em> guess </em> for <em> months </em> whether he’s being genuine or not? It’s another long moment before he adds, “What the fuck do you mean ‘for months’?”</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo snickers as he leans away from the pole and starts nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I mean just that. I haven’t exactly been subtle about it. Neither have you, I don’t think.”</p><p> </p><p>“You <em> knew </em>?” Kuroo laughs again and Kenma bites his lip. He resists the urge to kick Kuroo. “How I feel about you? You knew?”</p><p> </p><p>“I had a hunch.” Kuroo shoves his hand in his pocket. “Do I really have to take out the mistletoe to get a Christmas kiss? Only if you want, though. Well, I guess it doesn’t <em> have </em> to be under a mistletoe.”</p><p> </p><p>Kenma glares at him, which doesn’t seem to deter him at all. Kenma closes his eyes for a second if only to keep himself from punching Kuroo. He does grab the pole again and wiggles it with as much strength as he can muster, just to get rid of whatever excess energy Kuroo’s admission has brought into his system.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright,” he says when he composes himself. Kenma unzips Kuroo’s jacket and snakes his arms around his middle to leech his warmth, significantly warmer now than he’s been for the past ten minutes. “Okay, I’m ready.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” Kenma nods minutely and Kuroo pushes a small laugh against his lips. He tastes like mint.</p><p> </p><p>Well. Maybe <em> now </em> he can admit that the party isn’t so bad after all.</p><p> </p><p>💝</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WAAAH please tell me your thoughts !!  ! ! ! Come talk to me on <a href="https://www.twitter.com/bakchimin">twitter!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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